Notes: I do not own "Forever" or any of its characters.
With Adam now safely in the HSA's custody, the Gang of Six feel they can finally breathe a collective sigh of relief. According to Lucas, the government's going to park him permanently into Hanger 13 or Area 51 or in some secret underwater facility in the Bermuda Triangle. Yup. There's one there. He's sure of it. The aliens helped build it. But, more importantly, Jo and Henry now have time to cultivate and explore their new relationship.
Henry's office in the morgue ...
They part, breathless, after a particularly heavy kissing session. He tilts his head to the side and gently runs his fingers up and down the side of her neck. "You're going to have to wear either scarves or turtlenecks for the rest of the week now." he mockingly observes. He laughs when her hand jumps to the side of her neck and she playfully slaps him on the arm with her other. He sits down on the edge of his desk and continues to laugh as she worriedly studies her neck and throat in her compact mirror.
"Thank you for that shameful diagnosis, Doctor." She feigns annoyance as she snaps the compact shut and drops it back into her purse. But she happily allows him to loop his scarf around her waist and tug her close to him again. "Will this be a recurring condition for me, Doctor? I hope?" she asks with wide-eyed innocence.
He sighs and confesses, "Yes, I'm afraid so."
She runs her fingers lightly over his closely-cropped mustache and scruff, then pushes them through the waves at his temples. The roughness of his scruff tingles her soft hands and excites her as much as the feel of the babyfine softness of his temple hairs. She watches as he closes his eyes and lolls his head around, enjoying her finger exploration through his hair. "Is there a cure for it?" Her voice whispery soft.
"I'm afraid not." He buries his face into the other side of her neck and hugs her even closer to him. He smiles as she gasps when he gently rubs his teeth over the muscle on the side of her neck then, darts his tongue over her sensitive pulsepoint. His hands develop a mind of their own as they freely roam over her, his desire for her unbridled. Not since he'd first met and known Abigail had he felt so embarrassed over his emotional and physical need for a woman, and, at the same time, so brazenly uncaring over his embarrassment. His need for her runs rough shod over his gentlemanly manners and upbringing and tramples them in the dust.
"Henry," she gasps, "Henry." She gently tugs her neck away from his lips and they slowly pull away from each other, waiting for their frienzied, desirous haze to lift.
"Jo." he says, almost pleading.
"Not here. Not here." She suspects that he'd been intimate with Iona Payne/Mollie Dawes here in the morgue some months ago, and she'd rather their intimate memories not include his time with her.
He blinks at her as his thoughts once again cohere, the unspoken meaning behind her words, clear to him. She steps back and over his scarf, now on the floor, and picks it up and hands it to him. He situates it loosely around his neck and gathers both her hands in his. "Dinner?" She nods. They leave the morgue and find themselves at Jo's with Chinese takeout that becomes instant leftovers when they finally decide to break the last rule of courtship.
vvvv
Bellevue Hospital, Amy Mitchell's room ...
Lucas Wahl sits and chats with Amy Mitchell. He'd gone there to visit her after Det. Mike Hanson informed him that she'd been seriously injured by her former co-worker, Victor Caswell. Lucas recalled their brief but definite connection some weeks earlier at ComicCon. They'd exchanged reviews and trivia on 50's sci-fi movies, then she'd completely floored him when she'd suggested they exchange phone numbers. He sheepishly admits to her now that he'd misplaced her number, not lost - misplaced. At any rate, he does most of the talking because she's in one of those metal braces called a halo. So named because it circles and attaches to her skull in order to keep the bones in her cervical spine immovable. She's terrified to move so she eyes an explanatory brochure on her side table and he picks it up and reads it.
His eyes grow large when he reads the part where pins are screwed into her skull above her eyebrows to keep the brace in place. "Whoooaaa, Dude." He reads further about the metal rods that connect the brace to the plastic vest she's wearing over her chest and her back. Fortunately, her neck fracture, caused when Vic Caswell threw her and she'd hit the metal arm of a futon a couple of days ago, is not as serious as first thought. Still serious enough, though, that she can expect to wear the halo brace for at least eight to 12 weeks.
Lucas is dismayed for her but he figures that's good enough time for him to visit regularly and for them to catch up on things. And ... maybe establish a real friendship and, maybe, beyond friendship. He recognizes her smile as not just a polite smile. He's had enough of those thrown his way to recognize a genuine one. She really likes him. This is wayyyy past cool. And she's pretty. Not Det. Martinez pretty, but more like Det. Martinez, Jr., pretty. And she's smart. And nice. He takes a chance and places his hand near hers. She grins and wiggles her fingers and he slowly slides his hand under hers until their palms touch and he gently encloses her hand with his long, slim fingers. Man, that feels nice. He's been talking her ear off but for now, they just hold hands and grin bashfully at each other. Yeah. This ... this feels nice.
vvvv
The Hanson household ...
Karen Hanson lets out a loud sigh and plops down on the living room sofa next to her husband, Mike. Even though his eyes are closed and his head rests into the back cushions, he grabs her around the waist and pulls her onto his lap, surprising her.
"I thought you were asleep, Casanova." she laughs.
He opens his eyes and raises his head up off of the cushions to look at her. "Nope, just thinking."
"About what, Babe?"
"This!" He crushes his lips against hers and hugs her tightly against him.
"Well, I'd say you need to think more often." They both laugh and enjoy a more tender, lingering kiss.
"Boys are awfully quiet." he says.
"They are so excited over getting a little sister. They're upstairs planning her nursery and her first birthday party."
"First birth-, well, I guess that gives them something better to do than their usual bickering." He smiles and shakes his head. "I'm really proud of those two little guys. Thought maybe they'd be jealous and uncooperative at first. No, they just jumped right in all excited, offering suggestions and stuff." He shook his head again. "This is gonna be good, honey." He looked at Karen. "And baby makes ... " He pretends to not know how to count on his fingers and she grabs his hand.
"Five!" They laugh and kiss again. Then they snuggle into each other and silently entertain their individual thoughts on their soon-to-be-expanding family. "Gretchen Hanson." She whispers, trying the name out again, then softly kisses Mike on the cheek. He gives her a quick peck on the lips. "Our daughter." He nods. "I can't wait to hold her in my arms, Mike." He nods.
vvvv
Ryker's Island, Reuben Barnes' prison cell ...
"Barnes." a guard gruffs at him.
Reuben Barnes lies in his bunk with one arm over his face. At the sound of the guard's voice, he removes the arm and looks at him.
The guard unlocks the cell door and opens it. "Warden wants to see you."
Barnes swings his legs onto the floor and slowly rises. Just a little over a day in the prison's special holding cell has sapped his strength, despite the fact that the serum he'd made from Ben Larson's blood and injected himself with, has not yet worn off. He steps outside the cell and holds his hands out to be cuffed, then he walks in front of the guard to the Warden's office.
Once inside, the guard is dismissed and the Warden instructs Barnes to be seated.
"Barnes, this is your lucky day." The Warden motions towards the two suit-clad gentlemen already seated in the room. "Homeland Security apparently requires your help."
vvvv
11th Precinct, NYPD, Lt. Reece's office ...
The lieutenant settles into her chair behind her desk. She opens a bottom drawer and uses it to prop her feet up and sighs at the temporary relief. She closes her eyes and reclines her chair just enough to semblance resting at home in her more comfortable recliner. What a day, what a day, what a day, she tells herself. Her phone buzzes and she fishes it out of her pocket to view the screen. Hmmm, a personal alarm to remind her to meet up with some of her Howard University Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority members. She places her feet back down on the floor and scoots up to her desk in her chair. As she dials a soror's phone number to confirm the next day's luncheon at Janeva's Soul Food Kitchen in Harlem, she realizes that her conversational contributions will top any and everything the others have to offer. But she can't share any of it. She laughs at herself for wanting to top a certain soror who keeps them all updated on her son, the astronaut and her daughter, an interpreter at the U.N. Honorable professions both, and she has a right to be proud of her accomplished children, but ... neither of them are immortal. Reece can't help but laugh out loud for wanting to top her braggy friend. How childish, she reprimands herself.
After the confirming call, she touches the photos icon to once again view the ones that Barnes shared with her, but they are no longer in her phone. Horrified, she looks through her emails and finds that every last email from Barnes, including attachments, are also no longer in her phone.
"How ... ?" She slowly realizes that the HSA must be behind the sudden information blackout. Reece shuts her phone down and huffs. "Okay, boys, have it your way. Do what you have to do. Just don't let that murdering snake, Adam, out of his cage. Ever."